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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142405">These Nights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovelae/pseuds/Rovelae'>Rovelae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Claustrophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Kokichi is terrified of commitment, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attack, Sleep talking, mild suicidality, postgame, virtual reality au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:20:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27142405</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovelae/pseuds/Rovelae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights are worse than others.<br/>Tonight, Shuichi's mumbling in his sleep again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ouma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Quality Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>These Nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Some soft fluff-angst (flangst?) while I work on the multi-chapter that Atua sent me in a dream. Content warning for brief suicidal ideation and a panic attack, in case you missed it in the tags!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            Shuichi’s mumbling in his sleep again.</p>
<p>            Kokichi isn’t exactly <em>bothered,</em> per se. He’s already resigned himself to spending the rest of the night awake, after the first flickers of nightmares crept into the twenty minutes or so that he had his eyes closed. Nope. Not in the mood to deal with that.</p>
<p>            But he isn’t… exactly in the mood to deal with where Shuichi’s sleep-talking usually leads, either. Because the sleep-talking usually turns into sleep-crying, which usually ends in sleep-panicking and Kokichi shaking him awake, and Shuichi holding him and trembling and whispering apologies until he tires himself out and slips into uneasy dreams once more.</p>
<p>            That’s… probably mean of him to think. That he’s not in the mood to help, that is. It’s more like he’s…. Ugh.</p>
<p>            He’s just having a hard time breathing normally, and the ceiling keeps feeling like it’s getting closer, and there’s a restless anxiety fluttering under his skin that’s making his bones itch, and—and he really, really hopes Shuichi doesn’t wake up because then they’d both feel guilty about needing help but not being able to return the favor—</p>
<p>            Mumble, mumble. The arms around him twitch and squeeze and Shuichi presses his face into his hair. Kokichi has to take a few deep breaths to keep the flashbacks from clawing at the back of his eyes—Shuichi’s arms are so <em>tight—</em>but he doesn’t struggle, doesn’t push away. Shuichi doesn’t sleep well unless he’s holding something, or someone, almost suffocatingly tightly, and Shuichi hasn’t slept well in days. Shuichi deserves a good night’s rest. Kokichi can tolerate this if it’s for him.</p>
<p>            More sleep-talk—Kokichi catches the word “don’t” and something that might be his name—then a hitch of breath that sounds suspiciously like a tiny sob. And with that, he works up the courage to intervene.</p>
<p>            “Awfully chatty tonight, beloved,” he whispers back, slipping an arm around Shuichi’s waist. “You having any nice dreams?”</p>
<p>            (The answer’s obviously not ‘yes’, but still.)</p>
<p>            Kokichi traces the bumps of Shuichi’s spine at the small of his back. “Shuichi should talk to me instead of the ghosts in his head. Aren’t I much more interesting?”</p>
<p>            Shuichi’s reply, already unintelligible, is further distorted by the way he’s talking into Kokichi’s hair.</p>
<p>            “Hmm, really? Fascinating. Tell me more.”</p>
<p>            Shuichi obliges, not that Kokichi can actually interpret a word of it.</p>
<p>            “Oh, I see. You’re so smart, Shumai.”</p>
<p>            Complete gibberish.</p>
<p>            “Wooow, you don’t say? You’ve really put a lot of thought into this.”</p>
<p>            A low hum of agreement.</p>
<p>            He smirks as he trails his hand up and down Shuichi’s back. This is a pretty good distraction for both of them. And it feels … nice to think that Shuichi calms down just by having him there, listening to him talk.</p>
<p>            “It’s really late, you know,” Kokichi says. “You should relax and rest easy. No more bad dreams, okay, beloved?”</p>
<p>            Shuichi says something else, sighing, and then he rolls over on top of Kokichi and—</p>
<p>            <em>I don’t want to die let me out I can’t breathe I CAN’T BREATHE—</em></p>
<p>            A gasp that sounds more like a strangled scream rips itself from his throat as he shoves Shuichi away, bolting upright so fast that he topples to the floor—</p>
<p>            <em>White-hot and razor-sharp stabbing into his back, he’s going to die, he’s actually going to die here—</em></p>
<p>            He claps both hands over his mouth to keep himself from—from screaming, or throwing up, he’s not sure, but he can’t <em>see </em>and the machine is so close to his face—</p>
<p>            <em>His blood is everywhere, his blood is all over the floor, and on his hands, and his heart’s pushing molten lead through his every nerve—</em></p>
<p>            No. No. Nononono he can’t—he can’t do this again—</p>
<p>            <em>Hateful red eyes behind a glistening crossbow bolt, she’s going to kill him, he’ll die for nothing and he won’t save anyone—</em></p>
<p>            Shuichi—</p>
<p>            <em>Everything’s metal and red and it hurts I DON’T WANT TO DIE—</em></p>
<p>            He runs, because if there’s one thing Ouma Kokichi is good at, it’s running away. Because Ouma Kokichi is a coward. Because Ouma Kokichi is afraid of dying again, afraid of what he can’t control, afraid of what’s in his own head. He runs in the way he didn’t get to run from the hangar, until he finds a place to hide from the demon and the astronaut and the horrible, horrible machine that’s chewing him up and spitting him back out over and over and over.</p>
<p>            He thinks he’s in the bathroom, now, but it’s hard to tell because everything’s blood and ghosts and the memory of pain, and the whole world keeps <em>swirling—</em></p>
<p>            There’s water, though, the sink’s on—he splashes water onto his face and gags over acrid poison-smell, and his entire skeleton shudders and <em>crumbles</em> under an immense, unstoppable force—</p>
<p>            Wait, he—he’s still standing, though, it can’t have crushed him yet—</p>
<p>            It’s poison, then, and he can’t breathe because the arrow’s still lodged in the side of his lung—it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, these idiots are going to get <em>everyone</em> killed—</p>
<p>            No, Kaito already ripped the arrows out; he remembers biting down on his scarf to stifle his screams. He’s going to die. He’s already dead. He doesn’t want to… he….</p>
<p>            He doesn’t….</p>
<p>            He’s….</p>
<p>            …It’s so cold. Night air against his sweat-slick skin. Not metal. Then Kaito isn’t here, either, dragging him to his death—Kaito was too hot-blooded, radiated heat like a furnace.</p>
<p>            Kaito’s not here. Which means the assassin has no reason to be here, either, which means he hasn’t been shot.</p>
<p>            Which means he’s not … dying.</p>
<p>            Kokichi sucks in another deep breath and looks up at his haggard face in the mirror: pupils too wide, tears staining his cheeks, tremors wracking his arms as he braces himself against the countertop. Probably looks as bad as he did when they pulled him out of the VR capsule, though he couldn’t do much more than convulse and whimper back then. The thought’s enough to draw a too-high-pitched laugh out of him, though there’s no humor in it.</p>
<p>            …He should call for Shuichi. He promised he would, last time, when Shuichi had found him hyperventillating in the backyard because the AC unit had kicked on right next to him and it had sounded—it sounded like—</p>
<p>            He should call for Shuichi because this episode somehow, somehow hasn’t woken him up already, and Shuichi would come running, <em>of course</em> he would, and he’d sit on the bathroom floor with him and let Kokichi cry it out in his arms, all the while whispering soft words and running his fingers through his hair, and things wouldn’t be <em>okay</em> but they’d be less <em>this.</em> Shuichi would save him, because Shuichi is everything good in the world, and he promised he wouldn’t let Kokichi be alone anymore, he <em>promised—</em></p>
<p>            But Shuichi hasn’t woken up yet, because he needs all the sleep he can get, lately. Because he has nightmares, too, and besides that he’s always waking up too early or staying up too late writing responses to news articles, drafting scripts for press conferences, beating down the last of Team Danganronpa’s hissing hydra heads. Shuichi hasn’t woken up because he’s exhausted all the time, and the dark circles under his eyes never get any better, and he drinks more coffee than water and … and it would be selfish to wake him up over this.</p>
<p>            Kokichi almost-laughs, again. Since when has he been anything but selfish? It’s how they programmed him. Fans ate up the ‘irredeemable villain’ aspect of the rival-slash-trickster characters. It was selfish to think he could twist the show’s plot to turn himself into the mastermind. It was selfish to kill three people and himself for one last shot at making a difference. And it’s selfish, now, to think he of all people can make Shuichi happy.</p>
<p>            He should leave.</p>
<p>            He should walk outside right now and disappear into the city and turn up dead in some back alley a couple weeks later. Shuichi would cry for a while, sure, but he’s smart, he’ll realize it’s for the best. And he’ll start spending more time with Kaede and her <em>Claire de Lune,</em> or out under the stars with Kaito, and then—and then eventually he’ll be able to smile again, and he’ll be happy and he’ll <em>forget—</em></p>
<p>            Kokichi’s vision goes blurry and he covers his face with his hands, fingers sliding into his hair and pulling it until it hurts. He’s so tired. He knows he’s thinking too much but can’t find the energy to care; he just <em>hates it,</em> hates the frantic thoughts writhing like snakes in his head, hates trying to breathe when his chest feels like it’s caving in, hates nights like these where everything comes back to <em>Shuichi Shuichi Shuichi</em> and how much he hates and loves and <em>hates</em> and <em>loves him.</em></p>
<p>            He pads back to the bedroom on shaky legs. He should at least say goodbye.</p>
<p>            The moonlight streaming in through the curtains pools on the pillow around Shuichi’s head like a halo. Shuichi’s stirring gently in his sleep, rising halfway onto his forearms, and there’s something about him that’s so … so quiet, so peaceful.</p>
<p>            Kokichi approaches slowly, transfixed. He’s never prepared for how <em>beautiful</em> Shuichi can be, with his long eyelashes and dark hair and alabaster skin, the soft outline of his body under the blankets. He wants to hold him, whisper his name like a prayer, fall asleep to the beat of his pulse. He… he wants, he wants too much.</p>
<p>            Shuichi raises himself up just a little more, his lovely face twisting into something desolate and sad even in sleep, and he’s—he’s <em>patting</em> the mattress next to him, like he’s feeling for a stray contact lens or trying to find his phone to turn off the alarm. And he makes this tiny noise, like a whimper, and….</p>
<p>            It takes Kokichi a solid minute to realize numbly that <em>he’s looking for me.</em></p>
<p>            He doesn’t mean to step closer, take Shuichi’s searching hand and reverently kiss the back of it. Doesn’t mean to murmur, “I’m here, beloved. It’s okay.”</p>
<p>            And when Shuichi lurches up into an almost-sitting position with a transparently-relieved sigh of <em>“’Kichi….”</em> and reaches out for him, tugging him closer, he definitely doesn’t mean to <em>let him,</em> or crawl back underneath the blankets, or tuck his head under Shuichi’s chin as his beloved wraps his arms around him.</p>
<p>            It’s just that … Shuichi doesn’t sleep well unless he’s holding him. And he wants Shuichi to sleep well tonight.</p>
<p>            Shuichi’s mumbling again, and Kokichi traces circles around his shoulderblades with the hand that isn’t trapped between them. “Shh-hh, you’re okay. Just sleep, love, everything’s fine.” He’s still a bit too pinned-down for his liking, though, and the claustrophobia’s back with a vengeance, so he rolls Shuichi onto his back, ignoring the resulting plaintive whine, and shuffles to lie on top of him instead. “H-here, this is better, right?”</p>
<p>            Shuichi hums, one hand coming to rest tangled in Kokichi’s hair, the quiet puffs of his breath so, so soft against the crown of his head, and Kokichi wants to die, right here in Shuichi’s arms. It’s too perfect, it feels too good; anything this wonderful has to fall apart sometime and he doesn’t want to be here when it does. He’s going to break it, this fragile, perfect thing they have, the way he breaks everything he loves, and even if this one precious moment lasted forever it would never be enough to make up for that.</p>
<p>            Kokichi presses his face into Shuichi’s chest, his tears forming wet patches on his shirt. “Shuichi,” he breathes, quietly enough that it won’t disturb him. “Shuichi, I … I-I <em>love you.”</em></p>
<p>            It hurts so much to say. It always does, but he’d thought it would hurt less when its intended recipient is asleep. But it’s worse, this way; it’s not enough, nothing he does is enough.</p>
<p>            When Shuichi draws in a deep breath, Kokichi has to bite down on his fist to muffle his crying—<em>don’t wake up, don’t wake up, I didn’t mean to wake you up—</em></p>
<p>            “Love you too, ‘Kichi,” his beloved whispers, and sleeps on.</p>
<p>            And just like that, the knot in his chest loosens and everything’s … okay. The tension slips from his shoulders as a sudden not-quite-numbness sweeps away all the panic, and a tiny laugh that he can only describe as <em>giddy</em> bubbles up in his throat. He’s still crying but they’re tears of relief now, shaky and weak, Shuichi <em>loves</em> him—He can’t lie when he’s asleep, he <em>loves him.</em></p>
<p>            He hangs onto it, turns the words over and over in his mind, presses them into his heart the way he does each time Shuichi says them. Shuichi, who can reduce him to ashes with the tiniest smile. Shuichi, who stayed by his side even though he could have had anyone in the world. Shuichi, who promised not to let Kokichi feel alone anymore, because… because he… he <em>loves him.</em></p>
<p>            And he laughs again through the tears, because he’s so hopelessly, desperately in love with this man that he doesn’t know what else to do.</p>
<p>            …He’ll stay. He’ll stay for tonight.</p>
<p>            It’s cold outside, anyway, and Shuichi’s embrace is warm and nice and safe. And besides, if Kokichi moves too much now, he might wake him up. He might as well stay put and listen to the steady rhythm of Shuichi’s heart, make sure he knows that he’s safe, too.</p>
<p>            Just for tonight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>But Kokichi’s boyfriend is the Ultimate Detective, and Ultimate Detectives tend to notice things being off in one way or another. Case in point: Shuichi figures out something is wrong within 20 minutes of being awake. And they talk, and even though it takes a while, they eventually say what they need to—and even though it takes a while, things slowly, slowly start to get better.<br/>(Comments/concrit welcome and appreciated!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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